Wait outside, wait outside
Mother stayed in Lagos
the numbers
- bpm
- 103
- key
- D# minor
- energy
- 0.73
- dance
- 0.91
- valence
- 0.49
- vocal at
- 9.5s
- length
- 3:30
- language
- En
lyrics
You got your hand on the latch, but you stall at the door My braids drip on the mat, and my hem’s on the floor You say, “Come in first,” like you’re asking for more But I’m parked by the step, not rushing indoors Your coat smells like rain and the bus ride from Peckham My phone says nine seventeen, and I still won’t wreck it You keep wiping the glass with the sleeve of your jacket I shake water from my curls and I let you have that If I step in first, it changes the pace So I stay where the rain hits my face You keep your keys in your palm, in case I never say go, but I don’t move to grace Wait outside, wait outside Wait outside, wait outside Let it rain on me Wait outside, wait outside The carpet’s clean, but the porch has my print Brown droplets on the tiles from the hem of my skirt You lean on the frame, all patient and tense Like the whole night hangs on a small front-steps dent From Lagos to Peckham, I learned how to pause Let the moment breathe before breaking the call You keep one eye on the hall, one eye on the road And I like that you wait while the dark water rolls If I step in first, it changes the pace So I stay where the rain hits my face You keep your keys in your palm, in case I never say go, but I don’t move to grace Wait outside, wait outside Wait outside, wait outside Let it rain on me Wait outside, wait outside I see your reflection in the pane by the stair Two wet shoes, one small breath in the air You don’t push, you don’t rush, you just stay right there And the rain keeps time on the landing we share Wait outside, wait outside Wait outside, wait outside Let it rain on me Wait outside, wait outside